


Forced Bromance

by MaskedConker



Category: South Park
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Drama, Forced Bonding, Forced Relationship, Gay, Multi, Teen Romance, Truth or Dare, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-27 03:06:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5031349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskedConker/pseuds/MaskedConker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovski never really saw eye to eye ever since the incident in seventh grade. Maybe a game of “Extreme Truth or Dare” might change that. . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

We had rules to playing “Extreme Truth Or Dare.” We did.

  
  


They were not complicated in any way, and they were pretty straightforward in meaning. They were so simple, an idiot could understand them.

  
  


The rules were; if you pick “truth” you must speak the truth, the _whole_ truth, and nothing _but_ the truth. If you fail in complying with this certain rule, you will be met with _very_ severe punishments thought of by the rest of the players who happened to be with you the night you were dishonest with us.

  
  


Now before you go on saying, “oh, that doesn't sound bad.” Trust me, _it is_. The last time someone picked “truth” and lied were assigned with a very particular punishment that somehow involved the police and the kid actually went to jail.

  
  


Don't worry though, we bailed Clyde out two days later.

  
  


Yeah, he's still kinda bitchy about the whole thing, but it wasn't even our fault, he's the one who lied!

  
  


Anyway, the other rule was that if you pick dare, you _must_ do the dare. (Unless the dare is something illegal, relating to slavery, or forced marriage, then you don't have to. Unless you want to do it, then go right ahead?) Failure to do the dare results in you having to sleep with the person who assigned the dare to you.

  
  


Like I said, it's pretty simple.

  
  


Pick “truth” and you have to be honest. If you are not, then you will be in deep shit. Pick “dare” and you have to do the dare or you will have to sleep with the person who gave you that dare.

  
  


It is not that hard to understand and not that hard to remember.

  
  


Now the game itself when playing with others, is quite fun. _Really_ fun.

  
  


But if you happen to play with someone you hate, and everybody knows that you two hate each other, whelp, you're basically screwed because there is going to be that _one_ asshole who makes you do a dare involving that person you cannot stand.

  
  


Its the same thing with you liking someone and everybody (or one person) knows that you like them, you are going to do a dare involving them and you doing. . . stuff.

  
  


But all in all, the game is fun. You should come by and play it with us whenever you can.

  
  


Anyway, I gotta go. Lunch is coming up soon and Kenny wants to meet up with me as soon as possible. Apparently, he has something really important to talk to me about. See 'ya!

 


	2. Say "Yes" Already!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenny tries to persuade Kyle into going to the party Friday night.

I wanna strangle him.

 

I  _really_ wanna strangle him.

 

"Kyle, ple-eeease!"

 

With a sigh, I slowly closed my eyes, my brows furrowed together in annoyance. "Kenny, I told you already. The answer is _'no'_ and it will remain as a _'no,'_ so fuck off." My eyelids lifted up halfway, my eyes looking down at the sandwich that was currently in my right hand. I was holding the snack up to my chest and a few inches away from my body. My dark, emerald green irises stared down to the recent bite mark I had made into it.

 

I heard a huff come from beside me, causing my head to turn towards the sound, my eyebrows still stitched together. I was met with the sight of a pouting, cross-armed Kenny, his brows moved together towards each other just like mine were. This resulted in my eyes to roll and for my brows to pull apart.

 

"You never do shit, Kyle."

 

My eyes moved back onto the orange parka wearing boy, whose hoodie was down, allowing me to see his face perfectly. I just know that my expression turned soft once I got a good look of his face.

 

Kenny's sky blue eyes were partially conceal by his dirty blonde bangs, but I could still see that they were slightly narrowed at me. The emotion showing in those irises of his were containing nothing but the emotions of seriousness, irritation and care. His lips were firmly pursed together in a tight line, his eyebrows still furrowed to the other.

 

I shifted my gaze downwards, catching notice of Kenny's arms no longer being crossed over his chest but instead were resting by his side as his hands grabbed the front edge of the bench we were sitting on. Returning my head back to look ahead of me, my sight was fixed onto the view of other students either walking towards lunchroom tables, the lunch line, or heading out of the cafeteria Kenny and I were currently located at. I opened my mouth to respond to him.

 

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious, Ken."

 

The sound of Kenny's sigh effected in me raise a brow and glance over to him, my head rotating slightly towards him.

 

"Kyle, c'mon, please go with me to the party Friday night. I want you to do something for once. Something fun!" His expression changed to one filled with plead and desperateness. I frowned, my eyes narrowed at my parka wearing friend.

 

"Studying for tests and exams _is_ fun, Kenneth."

 

The blonde merely lifted his hand up and pointed his index finger towards me. "Don't call me that, and that's utter _bullshit_ , Kyle." He frowned and put his hand down, his blue eyes following my movements as I brought the nearly forgotten sandwich to my mouth and took a bite from it. "We both know that even you think doing nothing but study is boring _as hell_." He frowned a bit more causing my own frown to deepen in size. " _I_ know and _you_ know that you want to go with me to the party, so just say 'yes'already."

 

By the time Kenny was done speaking, I had finished chewing the food in my mouth. Sighing through my nose, I turned my head back ahead of me, my hand reached over to place my sandwich down onto my plate. I mentally debated in my head whether or not to go, listing out the pros and cons on going to the party. A soft, warm smile expressed itself onto my facial features, as I rotated my body towards the blonde. My eyes closed shut as my head tilted to the side, my voice cheerful.

 

"I refuse to go."

 

"What?! Kyle!" 

 

Groaning, I opened my eyes, revealing green irises that lightly glared at my friend while my smile faded. "Kenny, I'm not going, and that's that!" I firmly yelled, resulting in some students to turn their attention towards the blonde and I. Kenny pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing even more at me. I could tell that the poor boy's gaze was scanning over my facial expression which, I can affirm anyone that saw it, contained annoyance. 

 

"I know why you don't wanna go, green eyes." Kenny's reply caused me to stop glaring at him, and to raise a brow. He turned his head away from me and placed his arms on top of the lunchroom table before crossing them. His eyes flicked between different individuals in the cafeteria, watching them do whatever they had to do. "You're afraid."

 

I scoffed, my eyes rolling in their sockets. "Of what, exactly?"

 

Kenny rotated his head back towards me, his expression blank. "Of running into _him_."

 

I could feel my heart stop beating as my breath hitched in my throat once the words slipped out of Kenny's mouth and travel inside my ears for my brain to process.

 

_Him._

 

The boy that no longer goes by a name, but a mere pronoun now.

 

_Him._

 

The boy that stopped hanging out with me ever since the incident in seventh grade.

 

_Him._

 

The motherfucking asshole that just canceled our friendship just because I didn't follow his _demands_.

 

"Judging by how you acted, I assume I am correct, Kyle?"

 

My tense body that I was unaware of it stiffening, relaxed, my heart once again regaining its steady beating as my breathing returned to normal. A cold, harsh glare was directed towards Kenny, who had an arched brow.

 

"I'm not afraid of that asshole." I lowly growled. Kenny merely scoffed and rolled his eyes.

 

"Ri-iiight." He emphasized the words as his head turned back ahead of him.

 

"I'm serious, Kenny," I stated with anger, my upper and lower rows of teeth grinding together. "I am not scared of him. He means nothing to me, and he doesn't affect my life anymore."

 

Without even a single glance tossed towards me, Kenny replied. "If that is so, then go to the party with me Friday night. Prove to me that your words are true in meaning and that he really does not affect your life."

 

I had stopped gritting my teeth together by the time Kenny had finished speaking, and instead had pursed my lips in thought as my brows furrowed together as I considered on going or not for the second time that day.

 

Was I really afraid of that boy? No, I am not, and I never was. The only thing I feared when it came to him was what he would do or say if we saw one another. It is because of that which makes me tremble in fear. Not him.

 

I knew that going to the party would heighten the chances of me running into him, therefore making me have to deal with the possibility that we might interact with each other, therefore bring back the topic of me fearing what would happen if that situation were to take place. 

 

But as of right now, the only thing I really cared about was proving Kenny _wrong_.

 

I _am_ going to that party and I _am_ going to show Kenny that I am not afraid of that kid. He is no longer apart of me, therefore he does not affect my choices and how I live my life.

 

Not anymore.

 

"Well then, Kenny," I began, my brows detaching themselves from the other. "I-"

 

"Jew! Twink!"

 

I let out a frustrated groan from not only being interrupted, but for Kenny and I being called such a name by no other than Eric Cartman who was being followed by Leopold Stotch and Tweek Tweak (who both seemed to be in a very deep and focused conversation with one another about garden gnomes. _Again._ )

 

My friends and I had preferred to call the horrible name-caller by his surname just because we found that calling someone "Cartman" was much more kick-ass then calling someone "Eric" back when we were only kids. The name choice stuck with us ever since. We had also chosen another name for Leopold, and that was the name "Butters." I cannot seem to remember as to _why_ we started calling him "Butters," of all names but we did. It was better than Leopold, that was for sure.

 

My eyes had closed shut, hand coming up to my chest in a form of a clenched fist. My brows were furrowed and my upper and lower row of teeth were grounded against each other while a low growl originated from my throat. At this point, I think it was safe to say that the vain on my forehead was throbbing and was very noticeable. 

 

Even with my eyes closed, I could tell that Cartman had sat down across of me at our lunch table (Tweek and Butters must have sat down as well). The heavy footsteps and the huff of breaths from him trying to lift his fat legs over the bench gave it away.

 

"What do you want, fatass?!"

 

I could not help but just yell. I am just so . . .  _irritated_ and _annoyed_. I have always been those two things when it came to Cartman. I know that he has called me a Jew for years, but that only makes it worst. For him to still be calling me that name which bothered me to no end, for reasons I, myself, don't even know, and for me to think - no, to _hope_  that he would have grown up and stopped calling me that.

 

My green eyes were shown to the world once again in the form of a glare when my eyelids had lifted up upon hearing the sneer that was thrown my way by the overweight, brown haired boy who wasn't wearing his typical turquoise beanie with a yellow pom pom and folded brim for whatever the reason I didn't care for that point in time.

 

"Oi!" He exclaimed, his eyes narrowed at me as he put his right elbow down onto the table top, his fat right index finger pointing right at me. "I'm not fat, you fucking Jew!"

 

I scoffed, feeling my eyes roll in their sockets after clenching my fist and crossing my arms over my torso. "Quit bullshitting, we all know you're fucking fat!"

 

Cartman's red cheeks puffed out, his icy glare becoming harsher as the seconds went by as the fat fuck thought of some half-assed insult. During this short moment of silence between Cartman and I, I heard Kenny greet the two blondes, who in my peripheral vision, found themselves sitting in front of the dirty, perverse blonde (Tweek) and beside him (Butters).

 

"Hey Buttercup. Hey Tweek."

 

Butters waved (I am not sure as to why he did considering that he is _literally_ sitting next to Kenny, but whatever, its Butters) and smiled happily at Kenny with a simple, "Hey Ken!" while Tweek simply twitched and smiled shyly at the oldest blonde in greeting.

 

"No I am not!" Ah, so Cartman had finally come up with something. "Quit calling me fat you fucking ginger, Jew Chucky, motherfucker!"

 

I barked out a harsh, bitter, devoid of mirth laugh at the insult Cartman threw my way.

 

_Ginger, Jew Chucky, motherfucker?_

 

I'm not gonna lie. That was a good one.

 

I uncrossed my arms and placed them beside my lunch plate -- that had my now forgotten sandwich patiently waiting on it -- palms flat against the cold and dirty tabletop. With my upper body leaning forward and my eyes narrowed at a crossed-armed Cartman, I hissed out my response to his hateful comment and demand.

 

"Listen here, you tub of fat-"

 

"What the fuck did I just say?! Don't call me fat!"

 

I tried to speak and finish my previous sentence several times, but Cartman continued to interrupt me with, "Jew. Jew. Jew. What did I say? Don't call me fat. Jew. Jew." after every effort of continuing. So of course, during this time, I was able to hear more of Kenny, Butters, and Tweek's conversation.

 

"So Tweek, where's your boyfriend?" Kenny asked as he uncrossed his right arm from his left in order to stand it up on his elbow of the cafeteria furniture and place his chin on his open palm. His blue eyes stared at the spazzy teen curiously, watching as the other boy reached a hand up to grab at a the end of lose hair strand near his right ear. The simple unconscious act made by Tweek resulted in Kenny and myself to see a flash of light being reflected on Tweek's right ear lobe and helix. I had to actually stop trying to speak to Cartman for a few seconds and do a double take to see if what I saw was _actually_ what I saw.

 

They were piercings.

 

Tweek had piercings on his right ear. A small black male stud on his lobe and an ear weaving piercing which was a number of piercings that are attached to each other with the aid of a single piece of jewelry. This type of piercing was commonly created in the shape of a spiral, making the ear penetration worth it because of its enchanting charm.

 

_It fits him well, but it still doesn't change the fact that those weren't there before. He must have gotten his ear pierced recently._

 

The piercings stood out so well against Tweek's pale complexion and short, messy, light yellow hair which stood out against his dull outfit of a dark green, long-sleeved, denim shirt, black skinny jeans, and mostly green and slightly white Adidas Campus High Tops. Even with the dark clothing Tweek usually wears, his new piercings should have stood out quite well and I'm surprised that I didn't take notice the moment I saw him, Butters and Satan come this way.

 

Acknowledgement aside, I cannot help but wonder when Tweek got those piercings. I hardly see Tweek in the mornings before lunch, and I only have Advanced Placement English 2 with him in the afternoon. It's Monday today, and I am pretty sure that he didn't have those earrings Friday afternoon, meaning that he got it over the weekend.

 

"O-Oh, uh, he is talking to - ack!" Tweek closed his eyes tightly and tugged forcibly on the strand that he had his fingers wrapped around. "He's t-talking to Mr. Garrison after class be-because he got caught using his phone!" It was at this point where Kenny reached over the table and gently took hold of Tweek's right hand and slowly pulled it away from his messy blonde hair. Just to be sure that Tweek didn't try to pull at his hair, Kenny kept both of his hands gently holding Tweek's right. The twitching blonde didn't think much of this action because he was too busy trying to speak properly to notice and/or care. "He said he'll c-come soon and that I should just - agh! - come here and hang w-with you guys since Token and Clyde went to Mc-McDonalds to get lunch!"

 

Kenny nodded at his answer to his question, his head rotating to look over at Cartman and I, once I had finally been able to retort back at Cartman without interruption.

 

"Listen, I'll stop calling you fucking fat when you stop calling me a Jew!"

 

"Like hell I'll stop!"

 

"You hefty, obese, piece of-!"

 

"Piece of what, Jew?!"

 

"Cartman! Kyle! Just chill the hell out for once!"

 

Everyone's head, including my own, had turned towards the new voice which belonged to no other than Craig Tucker. 

 

Upon first glance, I couldn't identify who he was just by looking at his face, but his childhood and signature hat gave him away. 

 

The teen was making his way over to our table, both of his hands dug into his navy blue suede jacket's pockets. As he got closer, I noticed that his facial expression, instead of being a normal poker face, was instead of one that expressed irritation. His brows were furrowed and the end of his lips were slightly tugged downwards and screwed to the side. Because of this facial expression the teen wore, his piercings followed along with the part of flesh that was moved from his will. His single, black right eyebrow piercing moved along with the muscle it was penetrated through, same as for the two snake bite rings that curled around Craig's lower lips.

 

I have a guess as to who inspired Tweek to get those piercings.

 

Those dark, sapphire-like blue eyes with blacks specks surrounding the pupil were narrowed icily at Cartman and I (his left eye almost being fully concealed by his black bangs), as he made his way over to Tweek and the fatass before sitting in between them, unpleasant look still resting on his face.

 

I couldn't find myself to be all that afraid for making Craig upset with the current loud argument with Cartman because the young man was pretty _damn_ attractive. I couldn't help but just stare at him.

 

Then again, I wasn't the only one staring at him. Everyone at the table was too, albeit for different reasons from my own.

 

"For fuck's sake! You two give me a fucking headache when you two go at it! Just do everyone a fucking favor and fuck each other already!"

 

Now, instead of gazing at Craig with slight admiration for his good looks, I gaped at him with my nose scrunched up, my brows pulled together and lips tightened to the other before loosing them in order to yell, "That's revolting, Craig!" as Cartman (with his own look of disgust and horror) shouted "Ew! What the fuck, Tucker?!"

 

Craig did not respond to mine and Cartman's  appalled, as well as frightened replies, and he did not change his aspect when he rotated his head over to the parka-wearing boy next to me and his own boyfriend Tweek.

 

"As for you two-" Craig began before being interrupted by Tweek.

 

"Us?!" Tweek squeaked, body tensing as he flickered his gaze from Craig to Kenny. "Wh-What about us!?"

 

Craig ignored Tweek's questions and look of absolute confusion by coldly glaring at my eyebrow-raised companion. They stared at each other for a few moments before Craig finally spoke up with a question directed at Kenny.

 

"McCormick, care to tell me as to _why_ you are holding Tweek's _hand_ like that?"

 

I watched as both Tweek and Kenny quickly darted their sky colored blue and forest green eyes down to Tweek's right hand which was engulfed in a gentle hold in both of Kenny's hands from when he tried to prevent Tweek to damage his hair. At the realization of why Craig was upset at them, Tweek began to twitch even more and made an attempt to pull his hand away from Kenny's hold but failed when the other male tightened his grip and stopped Tweek from doing so. Kenny smirked at Craig, his eyes flashing a mischievous glint. 

 

_Of course. The dumbass was gonna try and upset Craig even more._

 

"What, does it bother you, Tucker?"

 

" _McCormick_ ," The Tucker kid warned, his scorn increasing in harshness. "I'm not in the mood for your regular bullshit, so knock it off."

 

"Tweek, you have really soft hands, you know that, right?" The devious teen switched his gaze over to Tweek, smirk becoming wider. "They're smooth, and dainty and I'm pretty sure they still fit perfectly into my own hands. Remember how you would go _on_ and _on_ about how they just fit flawlessly with each other back when we dated freshman year?"

 

Tweek's cheeks were dusted with a light pink hue at the memories Kenny was trying to bring back, his own hand trying to tug away from Kenny's as Craig stood on his feet beside him, fuming. I pursed my lips at this, brows coming together in worry as I saw Kenny look over to the now standing and _pissed off_ Craig with a sly smile and an amused look. I mentally prayed because I knew this whole scenario had a high chance of ending badly.

 

_Kenny, please don't get your ass kicked today. The week just started. Ple-eeease don't._

 

 "McCormick, do you _want_ to get your ass beat?!"  

 

"Kenny," Tweek pleaded before the blonde could make a witty remark to the seething teen, the corner of his eyes drooping down as he frowned sadly and deeply. " _Stop_."

 

Kenny shifted his gaze away from Craig and towards the trembling teen in front of him, his smirk faltering at Tweek's expression and the tone he used for his words. I decided to help them out by placing my hand on Kenny's left shoulder, frowning. Kenny looked over to me, smirk fulling disappearing when I started to shake my head no.

 

"Not today, Ken." I spoke in a soft voice, eyelids drooping as I tilted my head to the side and pulled my hand away from his shoulder. "If you want me to go to that party, stop whatever it is you're doing."

 

Kenny stared at me for a moment, eyes scanning over my features and I couldn't help but feel slightly self-conscious because not only did I know everyone was watching Kenny stare at me, but Kenny was close enough to be able to see all my acne, freckles, moles, and every other horrible thing on my face.

 

Kenny sighed deeply though his nose before nodding and turning his head back to Tweek and letting his hand free from Kenny's hold, earning a small smile from the small blonde as he balled up his right hand and held it close to his own chest. Tweek then rotated his head to the right and reached out to gently tug on Craig's sleeve, looking up high at the slightly more-at-ease teen who sat back down in his seat, gazing at Tweek with an apologetic and sad expression resting on his features.

 

The still twitching teen reached his left hand up to gently cup the right side of Craig's face which resulted in both boys to relax incredibly at the contact. Craig had closed his eyes at this point and dipped his head forward, allowing his forehead to softly rest against Tweek's (this had Tweek no longer shaking and to be almost perfectly still).

 

"Kenny was holding my hand because I was pulling on my hair again." We all heard Tweek calmly inform Craig, who revealed his eyes to the world again in order to stare into Tweek's green ones as the blonde's thumb pad caressed Craig's cheek. "He wanted to make sure I didn't pull on it anymore." Craig gave his boyfriend a small curt nod as a "I understand" response after pulling his head back so their foreheads were no longer touching and Tweek was no longer holding the other boy's cheek, but before Craig had pulled away fully, Tweek leaned up and pressed his lips to Craig's in a small peck before backing away.

 

I rarely ever saw the two get as physical as I saw just now, during school. They hardly showed public display of affection around us during education hours, and whenever they did, it was usually to ease the other who would be having a crummy day like Craig is now. So naturally, Butters and I couldn't help but just smile at the couple, even though my smile was hiding my envy towards Tweek, deep down inside me.

 

I've heard a lot about how good of a boyfriend Craig is (as surprising as it sounds considering how much of an asshole he is and has been) from Tweek ranting to me about him in English when I ask about their relationship. So, Craig is a great partner, friend (when he's not being an ass), and damn _good-looking_. How could I not be even _remotely_ jealous of Tweek for dating Craig?

 

_Ugh, I'm doing it again._

 

I stopped my smiling and glanced down at my forgotten lunch, silently cursing myself for thinking this way for the two when they're around me, once again. Its thoughts like this that make people, even myself sometimes, believe that I am interested in males. I could assure anyone that I do not.

 

I am purely heterosexual.

 

Except for when it comes to Craig Tucker because then I become the gayest man alive and will be will be ready to prove that by painting my entire face the exact colors of a rainbow, wearing a LGBT+ flag as a cape, and begin running though school grounds wearing nothing but the face paint, the cape, my shoes and pink underwear that has "I'M GAY" sowed into the material that covers my buttcheeks while screaming "I like the 'D'!"

 

Yes, Craig _motherfuckin'_ Tucker, has this type of control over me, and I will not deny that.

 

"Hey, Cartman?" Kenny spoke up, pulling me away from my own thoughts, my eyes flickering away from my sandwich and towards Kenny, my expression blank.

 

The brunette in question raised a brow as he rotated his head away from the couple he was previously watching in order to look at Kenny.

 

"What, twink?"

 

While I had made a face at the name Cartman gave Kenny, Butters put on a look containing nothing but confusion.

 

"What's a twink?" The smallest blonde asked, his eyes staring at Cartman (who had arched a brow at the questioning male), with wonder.

 

"You don't know what a twink is?"

 

I made a sound similar to one of a displeased groan. " _Cartman_. Don't tell him."

 

"No," Butters replied, light chocolate brown eyes moving over from Cartman to me. "And why shouldn't he tell me? What are they?"

 

I frowned and gave Butters a shrug in reply, not really knowing a good reason as to why the teen shouldn't know of the meaning of such a word that didn't sit with me well. The reason why I do not like that word at all? I don't really know myself. 

 

Cartman was watching me from the corner of his eye as he kept his head in the direction towards Butters, and smirked when he saw that I had no proper excuse before going off to tell Butters the definition of the word.

 

"Well Butters, a twink is an attractive, boyish-looking, young gay man. A stereotypical twink is a young man around the age of eighteen through twenty-two, is slender with little or no body hair, often blonde, and is not particularly intelligent. Therefore, with that, you are left with nothing but your boy, Kenny."

 

"Oh, well geez. Kenny you are a twink. Probably the biggest twink I know."

 

The sound of Cartman's booming laughter rode the airwaves and into my ears as Craig snorted before submitting into small chuckles along with Tweek and Kenny. Even though I couldn't help but hate the word, I cracked a smile at Butter's words. Once Kenny had finished his soft laughing, he raised a brow, looking over from Butters to Tweek, grinning widely. 

 

"Wait, wouldn't Tweek be a twink?"

 

"What?!" Tweek's face flushed a light rosy color while his hands came up to cover up his embarrassment, to which Craig laughed at, a small smile on his features as his boyfriend then turned his head to try and bury it into Craig's chest. "N-No!"

 

"Cartman said twinks aren't smart," Craig reminded, face going blank at Kenny. "Tweek _is_ smart. You aren't, McCormick."

 

Kenny's perfect shade of the sky blue eyes, lightly dusted with black and white specks narrowed at the oldest teen. He lifted up his closed right hand, middle finger extended up in the gesture that is not considered "kind" in some parts of the world. "Fuck you, Tucker." To this, Craig mirrored the action, his left arm rising up before draping over Tweek's shoulders, whose face had calmed down enough for him to pull his face away from Craig's upper front body and sit in his own spot properly.

 

"Anyways, what did you call me for, Ken?" Cartman asked in an attempt to bring the table back to the previous conversation they were going to have as arms folding on top of each other on the cafeteria table.

 

"Huh? Oh, uh, I was gonna ask about your hat."

 

"What about it?"

 

"It's gone."

 

Butters tilted his head, frowning a bit as he squinted at Cartman. "Oh hamburgers. Yeah, I just saw that." He stopped his squinting and straightened up his neck before asking, "Where is it, Cartman?"

 

"Oh, I was in my Government class and overheard Stan's bitch of a girlfriend talking smack on Kyle again," I felt my body tense at this, my head hanging and eyes falling down at my lap the moment I saw Cartman's brown eyes flick over to me, everyone else's following right after. "So, I told her to 'shut the hell up'. One thing led to another and then she ended up dumping her coffee over my head and in the process, my hat got dirty and now reeks of coffee which irritates the hell out of me."

 

"Why?" Tweek's voice sounded so soft, so curious, so light, and so _steady_. My head raised up to allow me to look at Tweek who was sitting almost completely _motionless_ as he stared at Cartman with genuine curiosity. We all noticed that when Craig is around Tweek, he calms down his twitching and spazzing by a landslide, making seem like a normal teenage boy without ADD. It does not matter to me that they have been dating for about a year and a half, it still brings me to slight bewilderment when I see Tweek like that after knowing and seeing him everyday for about eight years.

 

"Hm? Oh, well, I just don't like it." Cartman shrugged, lips shut together and pulled to the side. "We can't all be like you and like coffee, Tweek."

 

"I don't like coffee."

 

"Then why do you drink it all the time?"

 

"I drink it because its an addiction," Tweek explained, frowning deeply as he leaned forward a bit to see Cartman around Craig, who leaned back a bit for the two to see each other since he sat right in between them. "People don't always like the thing they're addicted too. Its like Craig and his smoking. He doesn't like it, but he can't stop it."

 

"If you guys don't like what you're addicted too, why not try to quit?"

 

"We currently are."

 

Cartman arched a brow, surprised at Tweek's response. "Really?"

 

Tweek and Craig nodded in unison which I found a bit creepy in a way.

 

"Well, good luck with that."

 

"Thanks." Craig replied in a dead tone, making his word of appreciation sound meaningless.

 

"Anyway, back to the hat thing," Butters piped, changing the topic of our conversation. "It was really sweet of you to stand up to Kyle like that, Cartman." The small blonde smiled at the brunette, who at this time, was trying to sneakily take my forgotten sandwich which laid in front of me. I knew of what he was doing, I could see him in my peripheral vision, but I was too distracted by Tweek and Craig making silly and ugly faces and smiling at each other when the other made a look that had the other laughing a bit.

 

Again, Craig and Tweek were never lovely-dovey with each other like this around us, so I could only come to the conclusion that Craig must be having a _really_ bad fucking day in order for those two to bring out this level of affection.

 

I found myself wanting to find out what's going wrong in Craig's life, and wondering what I could do to fix it.

 

_Oh fuck, it sounds like I lov_ _e the guy._

 

Do I find him attractive?

 

 _Hell_ yes.

 

Do I actually have a romantic feelings for him?

 

 _Hell_ no.

 

What I was thinking just right now was me showing care for a semi-good friend.

 

Cartman shrugged at Butter's statement at the same time he lifted his arm that had that fat hand of his holding my sandwich to his mouth before taking a monstrous bite out of it. Tweek turned his head away from Craig and towards the end of the table where Cartman and I sat, wanting to join into the conversation. Of course, this action resulted in Tweek to lock eyes with me because I was still staring at them.

 

For a fragment of time, a single second at most, dark emerald eyes bore into deep forest green sprinkled with specks of a lighter or darker shade of greens and black in the irises.

 

_Busted._

 

Shame and embarrassment expressed themselves through a small blush on my own freckles cheeks at the action of getting caught staring at the couple. I quickly tore my eyes away from Tweek and instead place them on the fat fuck who was enjoying himself with my fucking sandwich.

 

"Yeah, how are you guys even friends?" Tweek asked, sounded unfazed at the fact that I was eyeing him and his boyfriend (mostly his boyfriend) for a while. "I thought you two always hated each other."

 

If he was gonna be cool about it, so should I.

 

"W-Well," I stuttered with a voice crack, resulting in a few raised brows to be tossed my way and for me to mentally wish for my death. Curse my nerves. I cleared my throat before continuing. "Obviously we don't _really_ hate each other considering that we hang out everyday for some fucking reason."  
  
  


"Well, maybe then its not really hate at all?"

 

I blinked at the sounds of Tweek's voice entering through my hearing organ's and into their canals where they were processed by my brain. I furrowed my brows together, and mouth hanging open as I let out a confused _"Huh?"_

 

"Maybe, just maybe, you two are so in love with each other that you're both either in denial or so ignorant to your own feelings."

 

By this point in time, Cartman had the same facial reaction as me while Butters, Craig, and Kenny all stared at Tweek with questioning arched brows. Tweek looked around the silent table, dark green orbs scanning over the facial features of everyone sitting around him, waiting for someone to say something. That someone happened to be Cartman.

 

"What the _hell_ are you talking about, Tweek?"

 

"I'm saying that in response to your lack of needs and wants involving the other being met, you two had created this false hatred for the other to prove to not only everyone, but to yourselves that you don't want each other." He explained as his eyes fixed themselves unto my face, making me squirm a bit under his stare, most likely because of the topic he was currently talking about. "All the 'I can't stands him's,' the 'I hate him's,' are really just cover-up statements. You guys can't stand each other because you drive each other insane with the feeling of butterflies in your tummy you get around the other individual, or the increase in heartbeats."

 

I crinkled up my nose in disgust as I let the thought of myself having butterflies in my stomach and for my own heart beat to speed up all because of _Cartman,_  enter my mind. My brows had pulled downwards together as my lips pursed with one another into a straight thin line, and I could only guess that my cheeks were dusted with a light pink hue. Either way, hue or not, my reaction resulted in the coffee drinking teen to smile sympathetically at me, but continued his explanation further, to my displeasure.

 

"As sweat starts to roll down your foreheads and your hands become clammy in response to your nerves acting up, you realize that these reaction drive you mad because you've never felt them before and you can't quite understand them, and you just want those feelings _gone_. _He_ isn't what drive you insane, its the way you _feel_ around him that does. And in an attempt to try and get rid of those reactions, you both force yourselves to hate the other with yells and insults, making everyone around you and yourselves believe that you do truly hate the other when in reality you just love him. You two want each other really badly, but you have a strong belief that you can't have them, and looking at the other only causes you pain. And then, you conclude that the person you want is horrible, and so you push them away when in fact, you want nothing more than them and just want them closer."

 

_Now I remember as to why Tweek is in Advanced Placement English 2 with me._

 

Silence enveloped around us, the faint and mumbled sound of teens conversing with one another seeming oblivious to our ears as we stared wide-eyed at the blonde we all had come to terms as _paranoid_ and somewhat _crazy_  because of all his twitching, sudden outbursts and stories.

 

"Holy shit. . ."

 

"Wow, Tweekers."

 

Cartman scoffed, a wide smirk forming on his features as his brow raised up in arches. "Tweek, I can't even be angry at you for suggesting such an idea because that was so fucking _amazing_."

 

Tweek just twitched, flashing us a small smile. He was never used to people complementing him.

 

"Anyway," Cartman negan, trying to steer the conversation in another direction as his brown eyes were fixed on me. "Bringing us back to me and how much of an amazing friend I am for sticking up for my good friend, Kyle Brofl-"

 

With an icy glare directed towards the fatass, my brows furrowed together as my mouth turned from a resting thin line to a scowl. "I'm not doing you any favors Cartman."

 

Cartman huffed. "You have too, Kyle!"

 

"No, I don't, Cartman."

 

"Yes, you do! I took a coffee over the head for you!"

 

"So?" My scowl dissolved as my brows relaxed, one of them arching up as my lips screwed to the side, arms crossing over my torso in an annoyed manner. In my peripheral vision, I could see that the rest of the table had stopped paying attention to Cartman and I, probably thinking that we were at it again as they spoke to one another. "That was your own fault, no one told you to defend me."

 

The large brunette slammed his palms down on the tabletop before pushing himself up from his seat, his body leaning over the table as he narrowed his eyes at me, eyebrows stitching together as his ground his upper and lower row of teeth together. This action has resulted in for the three blonde and one raven to silence themselves by zipping their mouths shut, eyes going wide as heads turned to my companion and I's end of the table.

 

"So you're telling me that I got suspended for nothing?!"

 

My heart stopped, all irritation and anger fleeing from my body once the words had left Cartman's lips and carried the sound waves into my ear canals. With my red brows raised high on my forehead, my dark emerald eyes pierced into Cartman's wide honey brown ones. Cartman's previous facial expression was drained away once he realized what he had said, making me guess that he had never meant for anyone to find out that piece of information.

 

"You . . . You got suspended?"

 

Cartman recovered from his own shock before pursing his lips together, face going blank before giving me a nod in response. The pervert blonde next to me scoffed loudly, eyes rolling which effected in Cartman to slide his gaze from me to Kenny. 

 

"Bullshit."

 

"Not bullshit. Talk to PC principle."

 

_Cartman's voice. . ._

 

"Well, gee, Cartman," Butters sounded baffled as everyone's attention switched over to him.  "How did you get suspended?"

 

Cartman inhaled deeply through his nose, oxygen filling up his lungs as his chest expanded and he stood upright, arms resting at his sides with balled fists. He exhaled through his mouth, basically forcing the carbon dioxide out of his system while he shifted his stare from the blonde next to me to the one wearing an aquamarine turtleneck.

 

_His posture. . ._

 

"For creating a 'disturbance'." Cartman raised his hands up to show everyone the air quotes he used for the word "disturbance" as he rolled his brown eyes. "And because after Wendy threw her drink over my head, I took off my hat and threw it at her but she ended dodging it and it hit Mr. Mackey square in the face."

 

_Its all so serious. . ._

 

The raven haired boy at the table snickered, resulting in the slightly twitching teen beside him to lift his right forearm up and smack Craig's stomach. Instinctively, Craig's arm came up to grab at his stomach in a protective manner, his rude chuckling coming to a halt as he smirked at Tweek before looking back at Cartman.

 

_I hate it._

 

"Cartman, you dumbass," I placed my elbows on the table after uncrossing them, and leaning my body forward towards the cafe table, hands raised up to the sides of my head. My index and middle finger from both hands were pressed against my temples, rubbing circles into the muscles in a form of trying to sooth my growing irritation and anger. With my dark gem-colored eyes sheathed from the world, I kept my head hung, facing in the direction of the top of the table. "You could have just let them diss me."

 

"No, I really couldn't let them do that."

 

I reopened my eyes before looking up at poker-faced Cartman with a confused facial expression, my fingers stopping their massaging. Green orbs stared into honey brown ones as this hot feeling rose onto my cheeks and settled in that spot while resulting in a light pink hue to rest there as well as the next words flew from Cartman's lips in such a serious and stern tone that left me dumbfounded and flustered.

 

Dumbfounded because I never thought of him being so somber and humorless.

 

Flustered because I never thought that _Eric Cartman_ would so open admit that he committed such an act for me. _Me;_   _Kyle Broflovski_.

 

"I just couldn't, Kyle."

 

_Its official, I **really** hate this Cartman._

 

Even with my nose crinkled up and the color of my cheeks darkening to a redder shade, Cartman refused to part his eyes with mine, his blank, Craig-like expression not changing or faltering even once. In my peripheral vision, I could see  the rest of the group (except for expressionless Craig) staring at me and the person who I'm not even sure is Cartman anymore, with wide eyes, raised brows, and lips sewed shut.

 

**_"Hey kids, its time to use the "F" word_ **

**_**_Fuck fuck fuck fuck. . ."_ ** _ **

 

I broke Cartman and I's staring contest by blinking rapidly out of confusion of having a song break the silence that just enveloped around my group of friends. By shifting my eyes to the right of Cartman, I stared at Craig, where I could only assume was where the source of the music was coming from judging by the lyrics. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who thought this because everyone else looked over at him.

 

_**. . .living,** _

__**Fuck dying,** _ _

_**_**Fuck laughing,** _ ** _

_**_**Fuck crying,  
** _ ** _

_**_**Fuck this song,  
** _ ** _

_**_**But mostly fuck you!** _ ** _

 

"Craig," Tweek chuckled at the teen who flickered his eyes from Cartman, to me, to Kenny, and finally to Butters as if silently questioning us; "You guys hear this song play and automatically think of me, assholes?" Tweek tilted his head to the side, blonde locks catching the sunlight that was shining though the big cafeteria window behind Butters. "Your phone."

 

So it was Craig.

 

With a small sigh though his nose, Craig reached his left hand towards his back left-side pocket to pull out his phone as the two blondes and one brunette of the table to laughed their asses off at Craig's choice of song for his ringtone. Craig's dull eyes stared at the screen of his phone, presumably at the name of the person calling, as Kenny calmed his laughter, a mischievous glint in his eyes flashing for a small moment before he spoke up, smirking at Craig.

 

"Who is it, Tucker? You're other boyfriend, Michael?"

 

**_Fuck love, hate and friends_ **

******_Fuck following trends,_ ** ** **

****_**_Fuck this song,_ ** _ ** **

**_**_**_Can't wait till it ends!_ ** _ ** _ **

 

My eyes shifted from Craig over to the blonde next to me, narrowing a bit as Tweek tensed up. Michael was an underclassmen that played a major role in Tweek and Craig's relationship once, and even though they had solved that problem, it still remained as a subject that we don't talk about or bring up, especially around Tweek. "We" being everyone besides Kenny, because that dipshit brings Michael up whenever he had the chance because he loves to rub it in Craig's face of how he was right about the whole Michael situation.

 

So of course, I wasn't surprised when Kenny mentioned the sophomore, but the fact that he brought the kid up in front of Tweek and when the raven was already having a pretty bad day, was pretty uncool.

 

"Kenny," Tweek said in a calm, yet firm voice through his upper and lower teeth. His body had not relaxed an inch, his eyes were coldly piercing into Kenny's light blue ones with his brows stitched together, and small hands lightly gripping at his pant legs. Upon hearing his boyfriend speak up, Craig's deep sapphire irises peered at Tweek through the corner of his eyes, curious in how he would response to the comment Kenny (who looked over at the silently seething teen, smirk faltering in size once he noticed the dark aura emitting from him) made. "You know that I'm still in boxing, right?"

 

**_Fuck everything,_ **

******_But fuck you the most!_ ** ** **

****_Fuck everyone,_ ** **

******_But fuck you the most!_ ** ** **

******_With a big rusty pole or a splintery post,_ ** ** **

******_Fuck you the most, fuck you!_ ** ** **

 

With a gulp, Kenny laughed nervously as his hand waved dismissively at Tweek. "Oh Tweek, you're such a funny guy." The color of his face was drained once he saw Tweek abruptly stand up with his hands pressed against the plastic table cover material, a harsh sneer and glare on his facial features. The perverted blonde looked over at Craig with a somewhat fearful expression.

 

Not gonna lie, Tweek can be scary when you piss him off just enough. Not only does the skinny teen box, but he boxes with Craig sometimes. I've seen them at the gym sometimes, when the library closes and my parents can't come to pick me up and I have no money to take a bus or I don't feel like walking at night, so I go there to ask for a ride from them. From what I have witnessed, Tweek can deal quite a bit of damage, more than anyone can guess from him. Most people think Tweek is just a scrawny, little, twitching, paranoid, coffee-addicted kid who can't do anything on his own, and that is somewhat true in some areas. But there's something that most people don't know.

 

Tweek Tweak is so much more than that.

 

**_Fuck old school,_ **

******_Fuck new school,_ ** ** **

****_**_Fuck not cool,_ ** _ ** **

**_**_**_Fuck too cool,_ ** _ ** _ **

**_****_**_Fuck hip and ironically lame!_ ** _ ** ** _ **

 

"Craig," Kenny began. "You should probably answer the phone before your boyfriend sends me to the hospital."

 

**_**_Fuck giving advice,_ ** _ **

**_**_Fuck trying to be nice,_ ** _ **

**_**_Fuck you and you know who you are!_ ** _ **

 

 

The stone-faced raven shifted his eyes away from Tweek and back to his phone where he hovered his thumb over the "Answer" button of a white silhouette of a telephone in a green circle before pressing the pad of the inner digital of his hand against the screen and slid it up, accepting the call. He transferred the phone from his left hand to his right before lifting it up to his right ear as Tweek sat down again beside him, his head resting on his shoulder. Tweek's green eyes stared at the words "Fuck You!" carved into the flat surface in front of himself, two years prior thanks to his dark blue and black themed boyfriend. Despite the blonde being angry at Kenny, this made him crack a small smile.

 

"What do you want, fuck face?"

 

Tweek furrowed his brows together before lifting his head off Craig shoulders to look at him with a frown. "T-Token's in trouble?"

 

Cartman (who was laughing at Kenny's fear of Tweek) calmed his laughter and arched a brow, leaning forward to look at Tweek around Craig's body. "How do you know its the rich snob and that he's in trouble?" 

 

Tweek leaned forward as well, his body going into a small spams of twitches. I guess his body is starting to jerk rapidly due to Tweek's boiling blood and increased heartbeat from when he was moments away of kicking Kenny's ass.

 

"B-Because the only people who call Craig are his fa-family, Token, Clyde and myself." Tweek lifted his hand in the form of a fist, up to his mouth before enclosing his teeth around part of it to keep in a small outburst. Craig noticed Tweek's distress and raised his left hand up to his boyfriend's hair, ruffling it as he spoke to Token. Tweek relaxed and stopped with his biting before continuing. "Upon greeting, Craig has a tendency to call Token  'f-fuck face' and Clyde, 'needle dick'."

 

Craig retracted the phone away from his face before handing it to Tweek, his left hand pulling away from Tweek's hair. The blonde senior's body shook slightly as he took it in his hands, raising it up to his face to speak into the microphone. The tallest teen at the table looked over at Cartman, face blank as he replied to the second part of his question. "Those two only call when something bad happened."

 

_Only call when something bad happened?_

 

I wrinkled up my nose and furrowed my eyebrows once a specific person came into my mind. To add more to detail, once that douchebag Kenny brought up earlier came into my mind. He would only call me to tell me bad news or come to me when he had a problem or was in trouble. And me being the good friend I am, I was there for him all the time, helping him. Did he ever help me? Of course, but never when I needed him most.

 

_Sounds like a bastard I used to know._

 

"On our way, man." Tweek ended the call before he handed the phone back to Craig and stood up. "Clyde got stuck in the tubed slide at the McDonald's kids play place."

 

I burst into laughter with the rest of the table as I watched Craig sigh in irritation and disappointment before standing up, strong big hands finding Tweek's smaller ones, their fingers intertwining with the other.

 

"Well, gee, how did he do that, Tweek?" Butters asked after he recollected himself, the expression on his face showing pure curiosity. Tweek shrugged, lips pursed together and screwed to the side as a sign of the lack of knowledge of how the problem came to be.

 

"Butters, you should c-come with us." Tweek suggested. "We might need an extra hand."

 

Butters smiled and raised his shoulders before dropping them. He stood up. "Sure, I have nothing better to do."

 

As the remaining members of my groups of friends watched as the three teens walked away, my mind wandered off to Craig's group. Most everybody calls it Craig's group purely because he seems as the one who leads the others in the times when they do things together and calls all the shots. In that group, Craig, Tweek, Token, Clyde, and occasionally Wendy and her scumbag of a boyfriend are classified as members. Craig doesn't like Wendy and her partner because he finds them incredibly annoying like I do, and so when those two hang out with him and his friends, he tries to stay away from them as much as possible. I knew the reason as to why Tweek and Craig hanged out with us today, and that's all due to the fact that Wendy and my ex-friend were possibly with Token at Clyde at McDonald's.

 

That, or its just because Tweek didn't want to go to McDonald because he's a vegetarian. Why else do you think he's so skinny, yet so in shape?

 

"So Cartman," Kenny began, eyes pulling from the leaving members before being place on the fat brunette. "Did you really get suspended?"

 

The teen grew stone-faced again as a curt nod represented as the reply he gave to Kenny. I sighed deeply as I raised my elbow onto the table, left side of my face being cradled in the palm of my non-dominate hand. Words just could not express how much I disliked this Cartman and . My narrowed eyes mimicked into slits, a frown resting on my face as I glared at the boy in front of me.

 

"That's your own fault, fatass, no one told you to defend me!"

 

Cartman's eyebrow twitched noticeably, his expressionless face contorting into a sneer. "What the _fuck_ did I say about calling me fat, you fucking Jew!"

 

_Ah, there's the Eric Cartman I know and love._

 

I gave him an offended look. "And what did I say about calling me a fucking Jew, you son of a bitch!"

 

"Ey! My mother is not a bitch! Your mom on the other hand, is the biggest, fattest bitch-"

 

"Okay!" Kenny interrupted, standing up a bit and leaning forward over the table so that one of his hands were resting on my shoulder and the other on Cartman's. "Forget that I brought this up!"

 

Huffing, both Cartman and I crossed our arms and turned our head away from each other, growling softly.

 

Kenny sighed in an annoyed manner, but smiled at us regardless. "So Kyle, your answer about going to the party with me Friday night?"

 

Cartman blinked, his irritated and angry emotions fleeing from his body as he rotated his head to Kenny's direction, brows raised. At the new change of the topic, I shrugged one of my shoulders, smiling at Kenny as I rested my still-crosses arms on top of the tabletop.

 

"Oh yeah, I thought about it and-"

 

"Wait, you're talking about the party at Stan's house, right?"

 

Kenny's eyes widened, his face going pale as my body tensed, blood ran cold, mouth dropped open, brows came together, and the look of shock consumed my features. Cartman looked between us, confused before it clicked in his head. 

 

"Ooooh, you didn't tell him about it not being at Token's house this time? Shit, sorry man."

 

I broke out of my shock, facial expression showing nothing but anger as I stood up, towering over Kenny, growling.

 

"The party is at that motherfucker's house and yet you have the fucking _decency_ to try and take me there with you when you know I don't like the guy?!"

 

As Kenny stumbled over his words, and Cartman laughed at him, I picked up my orange and green jacket that laid beside me on the bench before storming away to my locker.

 

_That motherfucking asshole. Now I really, **really** wanna strangle him._

 

****  
  
  


 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its late, you guys. The program I was using deleted about 2,000 words off this chapter and I had to rewrite the whole scene that I lost, again. Upon seeing the deletion of my work, I stayed away from writing this story out of pure anger and annoyance. I finished it eventually, so all is good.
> 
> Oh and the song used in this is "Another F. U. Song" by the Reel Big Fish. I thought it would fit Craig perfectly and plus, the program I used pissed me off with the approximately four hours of work I lost, spending writing and planning on how to execute that scene, so I dedicate that song to it.
> 
> Yup.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, have a pleasant day readers, and stay sweet. :D
> 
>  
> 
> Unedited and half-assed.


	3. Deal?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone tries to make a deal with Kyle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I half-assed it somewhere towards the middle all the way through the end. I will go back to fix this chapter one day.
> 
> UNEDITED AND HALF-ASSED.

For once throughout my teenage life, I did not go to the library after school and I cannot study at home, either.

  
  


Its all Kenny's fault.

  
  


My lungs filled with oxygen before deflating and releasing carbon dioxide back up in a form of a deep sigh as I leaned back on my desk chair where I sat crossed-legged, a calculus textbook resting on my lap. My gem-colored eyes shifted away from my book and over to my closed window covered by the winter's frost. Gray clouds concealed the afternoon sun as a blanket of colorless snow covered the ground and housetops. I've lost count of how many times I have peered outside this window to see the same scenery for the past hour and a half since I've left school.

  
  


School.

  
  


A small series of images of what had happened today flashed before my eyes, clouding my mind with thoughts on the memories I had just seen. The mental pictures were from lunch time, class time, and after school at my locker.

  
  


I had Physical Education as my second to last class of the day, while Kenny had Aerobics and Cartman had Weights. It is Monday today, and our coaches like to think that over the weekend we do nothing productive with our bodies in regards to physical exercise, so they make all classes relating to gym run two and a half miles around the track. Of course, most of us run in groups or in partners, talking to people as we run. I wanted to spend the rest of the day alone, but unfortunately for me, Kenny and Cartman ran up beside me, trying to apologize and persuade me to go to the party.

  
  


I ignored them the whole class period.

  
  


But then that proved to be a terrible idea when I sprinted away from them in an attempt to free myself from their pleas with my eyes closed shut and legs moving as fast as they could. They had apparently called for me to “watch out” and I had ran into a body, therefore sending the two of us sprawling over the track floor in a tangled heap of limbs. The two of us groaned in pain as we tried to wrap our minds on what the hell just happened, but before I could fully figure it out, a pair of hands grabbed me and pried me away from the person I was crushing underneath my body before harshly throwing me to the ground beside them. Upon lifting my eyelids and letting me vision focus, I saw Tweek sitting on the ground, hands holding at his head with closed eyes and teeth gritted together in pain. Craig was crouching beside him, poker-faced as he searched for any open wounds or forming bumps on his boyfriend's head. Expressionless or not, I could see the emotion of worry swimming in his almost-always dull sapphire eyes. That emotion soon left when he looked up and glared at me in anger which resulted in me to tense up in fear as Cartman and Kenny ran over and muttered apologies to the couple while they helped me up and pulled me along with them around the track to finish our remaining mile.

  
  


They didn't utter one syllable about the party for the rest of the day.

  
  


But then after the final bell rang and I walked to my locker to gather all of the textbooks and binders that I would need to study and do my homework, I noticed two bodies block the sunlight that laid over me from the massive window that was placed on the other side of the hallway, casting shadows over myself and my locker. I sighed loudly before turning around to see Cartman and Kenny standing behind me, looking at me with no emotion whatsoever. I would be lying if I said that it didn't unnerve me considering that the hallways were becoming empty very quickly, leaving the three of us to be alone, and their expressions made me wary.

  
  


I can recall Kenny saying that he was sorry about not telling me about the location of the party and Cartman stating to me that if I didn't go, I would be a big pussy. I flipped the fatass off and cursed at both of them before stuffing my books and binders into my messager bag and headed towards the school library like I did everyday. Of course, they followed me and had told me that they would not leave my side until I went with them to “the fiesta at Marsh's house,” as Kenny put it. Upon hearing that, my mind swam in thoughts of me staying for the next two hours and forty minutes in a library with Kenny and Cartman pestering me about the party as I tried to study and complete my homework. I shuddered and changed the course of my destination from the library to my home by bolting to the nearest exit.

  
  


Since I had made a sudden change in my daily schedule, my mother could not pick me up from school because she had not known I was ditching my library routine and I had no pocket money to ride the town bus home. I also knew that I could not ask Tweek and Craig to give me a ride home before they went to the local gym because I know that Craig is pissed at me for what happened on the track. I had to walk (more like run due to the fact that Kenny and Cartman were chasing after me) all the way home in the cold. I had not put on my jacket as of yet, and I did not want to stop to do so because I would risk Kenny and the fatass to catch up to me. In a moment of quick thinking and improvisation, I wrapped my hood-less jacket around my head and shoulders with my arms crossed over my chest as I hunched my upper body forward a bit to try and keep my body heat from fully escaping.

  
  


What was even worse, was that on my way home, I had ran into my ex-super best friend. Well not him, but his girlfriend. I could have only assumed that they were walking to her house since they weren't walking towards that douchebag's house. His house was in the same direction where I was going. In fact, his house is right next to mine. It has been for our whole lives. The two of us never really saw or ran into each other when school was not in session, because we have different schedules. While dickhead would go straight home or to football practice after the final school bell rings, I stay in the library until six. Sure, that asshole's practice would end at six too, but he would get picked up from his dad at the back of the school, near the field and the gym exit, whereas I would get picked up from my mother at the front of the school, near the main entrance. We never arrive to our houses at the same time for some reason. I could only guess that he and his family would go out to eat after his practice is over because everyday on those practice days, I can hear the Marsh's car doors being slammed shut and the mixing of their voices involved into a conversation outside from my window as they walk towards their house and go inside, an hour or two after football practice had come to an end.

  
  


Fuck-face and Wendy were turning a corner at the same time I was, and I had managed to bump into Wendy. She yelled out at me to be careful, ass-licker cursed at me, and I muttered my apologizes before running off. My head was facing the ground, and my jacket hid my face from anyone who looked at me, so I knew that they were unaware that it was me. I don't want to know what would have happened if it was me. This whole situation would have easily avoided if Kenny and Cartman weren't being assholes today at school.

  
  


It was all a pain in the ass, and still is, now that I think about it.

  
  


The sound of a door creaking opening and a small voice calling my name broke me from my memories. My green orbs slid from the window to my bedroom's open door before resting on my little brother's figure which was standing at the doorway. He was fully clothed for the outdoor weather and he had a mug in his hands with a small stream of steam flying up into the air as a result of the hotness from the liquid inside the container. The small boy walked over to me, lips curled up at the ends to which I mimicked after taking the textbook off my lap and placed in on my wooden desktop.

  
  


“Mom told me to give this to you before I go over to Firkle's house. She said that you weren't wearing your jacket when you came home from school and that she doesn't want you to get a cold. _Again_.”

  
  


I chuckled before ruffling my adoptive sibling's black hair and taking the mug from his hands and into mine. “She already sent me four cups of hot chocolate. How much does she want me to drink?” The small eleven year old shrugged, the smile of his face growing as he watched me lifted the cup to my mouth, placing my lips around the rim of the container before tipping it forward and drinking the hot beverage.

  
  


“Enough for you to make sure you don't get sick. And you better not get sick too!” Firkle lifted his hand up and pointed his index finger at me with a look of seriousness. “If you get sick, I'll have to be in charge of you and I won't be able to hang out with Firkle.” I raised a brow at him as I retracted the cup from my lips. “Plus, I don't like seeing you so weak and helpless.”

  
  


I snorted, smirking. “I'm touched Ike, but in all seriousness, why do you hang out with that kid, anyways? He isn't the type of person I would normally see you play with.” Ike's gaze shot downwards at the ground in an act of avoiding my eyes. I took note of that. Ike only ever avoids my eyes when he's not telling me something or when he's lying.

  
  


“Exactly. Firkle is . . . He's different from everybody else.”

  
  


I arched a brow at Ike's words. “Well of course, but I don't see why that would-”

  
  


“Kyle, isn't it study hour right now?”

  
  


I blinked twice at the sudden interruption. I was going to question him on it, but the Canadian was right; it was study hour. “Study hour” is what I call the time when I study and do my assignments for school, and I absolutely do not allow any interrupts during that time. The only time I stop study hour is when I have to take my meds, when my mom calls for me, when I go to the bathroom, and when someone is dying or in deep trouble. I take my studies very seriously because I do plan on going to Harvard for the University I will be attending once I graduate out of high school. I placed the mug down on my desktop beside the calculus book, nodding my head with lips pressed together to form a thin line and brows stitched together.

  
  


“Uh, it is.” Ike looked back up at me while I reached my hands over to the giant book, picking it up and placing it on my crossed-legged lap again. “You should go to Firkle's house now. I need to study.”

  
  


I saw Ike nod his head in my peripheral vision before he turned around and walked out of my room after closing the door behind him. Now that all the distractions were out of the way, I tried to focus on reading the book in front of me, but the action was only brought to no avail. I found myself reading one paragraph and then rereading it several times because I could not seem to process what exactly it was the words were telling me. Groaning in frustration, I tilted my head back and closed my eyes.

  
  


_It's all Kenny and Cartman's fault that I can't study._

  
  


My eyelids slowly slid upwards and I stared at the white ceiling on top of me as my two closest friends' faces popped into my mind, along with the annoyance they brought me throughout the day.

  
  


_I'm gonna kiss their asses._

  
  


After I narrowed my eyes into slits, I straightened my neck and lifted the textbook off my lap before closing it and putting it on the desk once again. I uncrossed my legs before standing up and reaching into my back pocket to fish out my phone that was safely secured by my “Terrance and Phillip” phone case.

  
  


I love those two Canadians so much. They make good content. Regardless of its foulness, its still funny.

  
  


With a press of the power button, the lock screen appeared on my phone and I entered my password. An unlocking sound broke through the silence that engulfed the air in my room and before I knew it, I was tapping at the letters of the touch keyboard on the cellular device on my hand. I typed up a message to Cartman claiming that it was his and Kenny's fault that this is happening (this being my inability to study) and then I pocketed my phone before standing up and picking up my book. After doing that, I wandered over to my messenger bag that laid on my bed and gently shoved the heavy textbook into the pouch.

  
  


_Brrr-dun!_

  
  


The notification sound from my phone rang through air and rode the sound waves into my ear canals, showing me that I had received what most likely were to be a text from Cartman if I looked. Upon taking out my phone, unlocking it, and going to my messages, I found out that I was right. Cartman's contact picture and name that I had personally installed, popped up at the top of recent messages marked “Today.” I hovered my thumb over the new message before the flesh of my thumb pad made contact with the screen and I was staring at our conversation.

  
  


_**Fatass said:** _

Wow you're texting me during study hour? What did I do?

  
  


I typed up my reply, hit send, and felt slightly irritated and stressed as I recollected memories of my day and waited for his reply.

  
  


_**You said:** _

Ruin my entire day. I can't study.

  
  


_Brrr-dum!_

  
  


_**Fatass said:** _

HOLY SHIET. ITS A FUCKING MIRICALE

  
  


The text from Cartman came so quickly, it almost felt like he didn't even read it. My eyes scanned over the words, the feeling of anger beginning to bubble in my chest and causing my blood to start boiling, and face to heat up as my heart began to beat harder and faster. My fingers twitched a bit, wanting nothing but to type up a reply to Cartman's text; and so they did.

  
  


_**You said:** _

No, it's not. This is serious. You and Kenny are giant assholes for causing this to me.

  
  


_**Fatass said:** _

LOL. I GOTTA TELL KEN

  
  


A growl formed in my throat, and I unsparingly let it out while my finger hammered on the buttons on my cell phone's screen.

  
  


_**You said:** _

BASTARD.

  
  


“Kyle!”

  
  


The anger seemed to just dissolve from my body once the voice of my mother slipped into my ears and a soft gasp flew past my lips, breaking me out of my infuriated state that Cartman created. I had jumped back a bit, startled at her call for me. I brushed off the sudden unintentional scare and slid my phone back into its home in my back right pocket before calling back to her.

  
  


“Yeah?”

  
  


“Come here!”

  
  


Sighing, I rubbed any left over traces of anger and annoyance off my face to make sure that I didn't walk downstairs to her with those emotions still on my face. She would most likely think that those feelings would be targeted towards her when they weren't. My hand slowly retracted from my face as green eyes laid onto the forgotten mug that sat on my desk. I instantly thought of my mother and how I haven't replied to her. I quickly changed that by doing so.

  
  


“Alright, coming!”

  
  


I walked over to my desk and lifted the mug, seeing the brown liquid inside swish around. After texting Cartman, I won't be able to bring myself to eat or drink anything out of the loss of appetite, so it would be best if I take the cup downstairs and depose of the drink. I headed over to my door and opened it before stepping out into the hallway and closing the wooden door to my bedroom. It was silent in the house except for the small chatter coming from downstairs. Today was Monday and my father had work to attend to so I knew he wasn't here; and Ike had just left not that long ago. My mother must have company over.

  
  


I began to walk towards the end of the hall where the stairs were located but I was stopped when I walked past Ike's room. The brown barrier to his room was slightly ajar and I was able to see a little bit of his living space, which I realized that I haven't seen in half a year. Curiosity got the better of me and I reached my free hand over to the door and once the skin of my palm made contact with smooth, painted wood, it pushed the door back with a small amount of force. This action swung the door more open, allowing a wider view for me to see of my little brother's bedroom. From what I could see, the room was empty of any living things, telling me that Ike had really gone to Firkle's house. My eyes scanned over the walls and furniture, mentally noting all the “Terrance and Phillip” and various popular YouTuber merchandise and objects. Scattered around the wall above Ike's small desk was taped pictures of family and friends. One thing that stood out the most of the pictures were that they were mostly of Ike and Firkle together.

  
  


Okay, I really have to get a full detailed response from Ike on his friendship with Firkle.

  
  


“Kyle!”

  
  


Blinking, I pulled my gaze from the room in front of me and responded to my mother, assuring her of that I was making my way downstairs now by proceeding down the hall and yelling “I'm coming!” She seemed to be pleased by my reply, because she did not call for me again as I made my way down the stairs, my left hand resting on the railing we had installed on the wall, and my right hand still clutching to the handle of the coffee mug. Her speech became much more understandable and from what I could hear, she was talking about me and how I was doing in school. The companion she was talking with; I could only assume was male because of the deep “Mhm” that came as a response every once in a while to acknowledge my mother that they were listening.

  
  


My green eyes were looking down at the stairs, making sure that I didn't somehow miss a step or trip and fall, so I wasn't aware of who the person sitting on the recliner in the living room with a mug similar to mine in their hand was. It wasn't until I had got off the last step and my feet made contact with the carpeted floorboards, when I lifted my head up and shifted my gaze immediately past my mother sitting on the couch and over to the visitor who was already looking at me. My mother acknowledged this and turned in her spot to look behind her, the end of her lips curling upwards once her worn out emerald green eyes met my own younger gem-colored eyes once I fixed them unto her in surprise.

  
  


“Ah, there you are, Kyle.”

  
  


I did not expect to see him here, but then again, it's not like he has never visited since my seventh grade year.

  
  


“Well don't just stand there, Kyle,” my mother lightly scorned. “Greet our guest.”

  
  


My eyes slid over to the man, resulting in a warm smile to spread across my facial features. He mimicked the gesture. “Good evening, Mr. Marsh.”

  
  


The douchebag I used to call my super best friend's father passed me a curt nod and said a greeting of his own to me before taking a sip of his beverage.

  
  


I stated before that I was surprised to see Randy here, but at the same time, I wasn't. Him being here wasn't unexpected because he, along with Sharon, come over to the Broflovski household quite often to talk to my parents. Even though his son and I are no longer considered friends, fuck-face's parents still have contact with my parents while maintaining a healthy friendship with one another, so it was common to see the other's parents hanging out with our own.  
  
  
  


What was unexpected about his visit was not only was he alone, but Sharon and him haven't spoken with my mother and father for about three months now; which was uncommon of them. To see Randy here now, it seems a little off, but relaxing nonetheless. I have nothing against Randy, and I am glad he finally came to visit; it's his son that I can't seem to stand.

  
  


“It's been a while, hasn't it?” Randy asked, eyes glued fast to my face. I nodded slowly, throat all of a sudden becoming dry.

  
  


“It has.” I glanced over to my mom, who was staring at Randy with a look of content. She must be happy to know that the Marsh's are not upset at them or anything of that matter. When I noticed that she would not speak up and that I had to continue this conversation, I forced myself to looked back at Randy and smile a bit more before asking, “How's Mrs. Marsh?”

  
  


Randy chuckled softly as he looked down at the liquid in his mug. “She's fine. She misses you, though.” He took a sip of his beverage while I smiled at the statement. Honestly, I had missed Mrs. Marsh's home baked sugarless cookies and other foods that she'd make just for me. In fact, I miss her in general. She was like a second mother to me, and we shared a bond between us that even Stan and I couldn't create.

  
My thoughts of Mrs. Marsh was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing shut. Happy at the thought of Sharon coming over, I pulled my gaze from Randy and over to the main entry of the house; my mother and Randy following the action.

  
  


Dark green settled on topaz blue eyes, sprinkled with white and gray specks around the iris which increased the beauty of those organs of sight. Those eyes were always associated with Sharon, and I felt quite relaxed every time I saw those eyes, but this time, I didn't feel at ease because those eyes did not belong to Mrs. Marsh.

  
  


I couldn't seem to wrap my mind around the fact that dipshit and I were standing in the same room, staring at each other, and fully aware of the other existence, nonetheless. We stared at each other, wide-eyed for some time before both of us gathered our senses and took action of out frozen and stiff bodies and looked away from each other.

  
  


_Why the **fuck** is he here? Did he know that I was here? How many times has he been into my house without my knowledge?Did he figure out that it was me that ran into Wendy? _

  
  


My mind raced with questions that needed answers but my brain and voice just couldn't seem to form and ask them. Instead, as I stared at a framed photograph of my little brother Ike and I on the wall, my brain tried to answer those questions with suitable and realistic responses. He must be here with his father, and the reason as to why they are here is something that might be answered later, but in the meantime, I will just have to settle with the possible fact that douchebag over there has been to my house plenty of times since our fallout. He opened the door without hesitation (which ties into the fact that he most likely did not know I was home) and he just now walked to the couch my mother sat on, all the while hanging his head and looking at the carpeted floorboards. I saw him out of my corner of my eye. Fuck-face probably thought that I was still at the library today, as I should be everyday, but thanks to two assholes, I'm not for the first time in forever. And since he thought that I was at the library after school, he didn't think that it was me who ran into his girlfriend very few hours ago.

  
  


My mom cleared her throat, most likely to clear the sudden unspoken tension that rested in the heavy air around us. She looked over at Randy, who shrugged his shoulders and drank from his mug to signal to her that if they should do something, she would have to.

  
  


“Kyle, Mr. Marsh and Stan are looking to borrow a 4-way tire iron, jumper cables, and a hydraulic jack. You're dad just went to work and you're the only one besides him who knows where everything is in the garage.”

  
  


I pulled my eyes away from the picture before settling them unto her face and nodding. “Okay, I'll go and get it.” I started to walked towards the kitchen where the back door of the house was until I heard Randy's voice say something that just made me stop dead cold in my tracks.

  
  


“Stan will go and help you carry that stuff back.”

  
  


I whipped around to face him, the mildly warm chocolate beverage in my mug swishing dangerously close to the rim, risking the chance of spilling out of the carpet. I spotted a small drawer beside me and I placed the cup on there before I raised my hands in the air in front of me, elbows tucked into my sides and wrists turning frantically while my eyes closed and a nervous smile played on my lips. “T-That's not necessary! I can carry it all back by myself!”

  
  


Ass-licker nervously chuckled in agreement, causing my eyes to open at this. He forced a smile at me before looking at his dad. “Dad, why can't you go and help Kyle? You are the one that needs them after all.”

  
  


Randy raised one shoulder and then let it down again with a small grin. “That might be true, but I need to talk to Mrs. Broflovski about mine and you mom's trip. Shelly's in collage now, and after last time, I want to make sure you don't burn the house down. _Again_.”

  
  


_I remember that. They had to live somewhere else for half a year while they rebuilt the house._

  
  


My ex-super best friend had told his father that the last time it wasn't his fault, to which Randy gave him a skeptical look. The teen huffed before standing up with an irritated “Fine,” and a small glare to his dad (who ignored it and smiled brightly), before complying with his dad's wishes of helping me. He walked over to where I stood with his arms crossed over his torso and his blue eyes staring at my custom made high top converse shoes. One of the shoes had a drawing of Terrence yelling “Uncle fucker” on the outer side of it, and for the inner part, it had “Terrance” sown into the material. The same was for the other, except Phillip's drawing and name took Terrance's spots. At the heel of the shoe, instead of having the company logo of “All Star” branded at the back, the words “Ass Licker” was embedded there.

  
  


They were pretty kick-ass shoes, if you ask me.

  
  


My old friend smiled softly at them as my hands rested by my sides in defeat. I didn't want to be anywhere around him, but it seemed like I had no choice. The bastard child and I made our way into the kitchen, where I dug through the drawers in an attempt to look for the garage key. Upon finding it, I motioned for the prick to follow my outside where we wandered to the small building where we stored our vehicles and other objects that can't seem to fit in the house or just serve us no use anymore.

  
  


We could just store those things in the attic, but you know. Garage is easier.

  
  


I unlocked the door and headed inside the large dark room before informing Wendy's pussy reliever that the light switch was beside the door frame, to the left. The tone of my voice and the sudden information signaled to the raven boy that he was to flick them on, to which he did. Light brightened the no longer dark room, illuminating all the corners and caused shadows to appear around the place. As dick-face looked around the room as he slowly proceeded to where I had walked over to, I opened the second to top drawer of the tool cabinet located near the garage door opening. Inside the drawer was a mess of different power tools and such, making my shoulders stoop a bit. I knew it was going to take a while to find the things needed. That meant that it would increase the time I would be with the person I hate the most in this town.

  
  


Fuck.

  
  


Well, I'm a decent person, might as well try to make this less awkward that it could be. I could start a conversation with him. Yeah, spark up a conversation for the time being. I can handle that. Small talk. Cool.

  
  


“So uh, Marsh. . .W-What do you, uh. . .” I began, voice and words entangled in the emotion of nervousness and discomfort.

  
  


Well shit, maybe I take that back.

  
  


I cleared my throat and started over, cheeks warming up in embarrassment. The first time I speak with him in years and this is how I act? Lame. “W-Why do you guys need this stuff, anyways?” I shuffled around the stuff in the drawer, keeping my mind on the mental list of the needed objects and on the talk between the uncle fucker behind me and myself. “Did you guys get into a car accident or something?”

  
  


Randy's son shook his head with pursed lips as a sign of a nonverbal answer. Of course, I had not known this, and not seen it, so all I heard was silence with no words or sound of movement. That made me nervous, and it made me wonder if him and I were not on good terms enough to speak with one another. I wanted to punch myself in the face for even trying to talk to him, when back then, I refused to even do so. I was about to open my mouth and apologize for my actions until I heard him speak.

  
  


“Sorry, I uh, I thought you knew I shook my head,” The raven scratched the back of his head while I had found the jumper cables buried deep into the drawer of the tool cabinet and began to remove the small things off of it so I could pull it out. “No, they're going on a trip. I don't know where exactly, but my dad says there are a lot of Asians there and they're suppose to be bad drivers.” Once I pulled out the cables, I turned to the scumbag behind me with pursed lips and a raised brow. “My dad thinks he's gonna need all of this,” He explained.

  
  


“Wow,” I sighed and shook my head in dismissal before handing him the cables and closing the open drawer. I opened the bottom drawer of the large red and silver cabinet as Stan continued.

  
  


“While on the topic of said trip, my parents are gonna leave Friday morning and won't be back until the week after. My parents don't trust me enough to not throw a party or destroy the house.”

  
  


I found the jack and pulled it out of the horizontal compartment before placing on the solid ground beside me. The teen tool shifted his weight on one foot to the other, giving off the idea that he was either uncomfortable or nervous. I'd say uncomfortable, because that's what I am feeling right now, and there is no doubt about it that he feels it too.

  
  


“Judging from what I've heard, they shouldn't trust you.” I looked up to dickhead I used to call a friend and saw him rolling his eyes at me with a scoff. I narrowed my eyes at him and returned to the piece of furniture with drawers before closing the current open one and opening the one above it.

  
  


“Anyway, I'm pretty sure that my dad is asking your mom to take care of me and the house while they're away, and that provides a problem for me.” I didn't respond, but instead continued to shuffle through the array of tools. “I'm throwing a party Friday night at 8 until midnight and obviously, you're parents can't know that, otherwise they'll tell my parents. So, you have to get your parents out of your house so that they don't hear the party happening next door.”

  
  


I froze at his words.

  
  


_What did he just say?_

  
  


I snapped my head over to the prick, shocked and a little angry.

  
  


“What?”

  
  


The douchebag shrugged one shoulder, as if he said nothing wrong, and repeated; “You heard me. You have to get your parents out of the house until the party is over.”

  
  


I slammed the drawer closed once he finished his sentence. My upper and lower row of teeth grounded together while my red brows moved towards the each other and my legs straightened, allowing me to stand up and face the asshole in front of me. “Wait, have too?!”

  
  


Shit-head narrowed his light blue eyes at me, his head passing off a small curt nod in my direction. “Yeah, you have too!”

  
  


My jaw dropped at his words and I gaped at him in shock. “So what, I don't even get a choice on doing this?!”

  
  


The dick sighed loudly in annoyance as his eyes rolled in their sockets. He put the cables down on a nearby table be he turned back to look at me with a forced smile. He then spoke in such a mocking tone of false happiness and glee. “Hey dick-wad, are you capable of doing this for me?” I opened my mouth to reply, but stopped when he all of a sudden gasped, his hands coming together to intertwine their fingers with each other before pressing one of his hands to his cheek. He was forcing a grin now. “You are? Awesome, you're the best, bro!”

  
  


I wasn't sure if the vain on my forehead was visible when Cartman and I had that talk today, but I am very certain that it was visible for anyone to see now. With my teeth grinding together in an attempt to control my cool, I let a deep growl form from my throat and balled my fists. “You fucking bastard,” I cursed. “You always did this to me!”

  
  


“Do what?” The son of a bitch gave me a confused look after he processed my words, and it was then when I wish I could slap him across the face. I didn't though. Instead, I said nothing and turned back to the red and silver tool cabinet to continue looking for the last object while glaring at everything inside the newly opened drawer. The taller teen grew impatient at my actions, therefore causing him to repeat his question at a louder voice level. “Do what?”

  
  


I pulled out the tire iron upon finding it and yelled out, “Force me to do things without my saying!” Complete anger changed my relaxed aura from before and laced into each word that left my mouth.

  
  


“Well, sorry, but I need you to do this! I need your help!”

  
  


I scoffed at his words and slammed the drawer closed before reaching down to pick up the forgotten jack on the floor. Once I was securely holding onto both of the tools, I took a deep breath and turned around to face my ex-super best friend. “Well to bad,” As soft as my voice was, it still contained its angry and firm roots. “Find someone else to do your do your dirty work.” I walked forward and slightly around him, bumping into his shoulder and left side of his body in the process.

  
  


I was pissed to say the least. Pissed to the point where I ignored the bastard I used to care for when he called after me as I left the garage. When we first entered the car storage place, I really thought we had a chance of fixing our broken friendship. We could finally become super best friends again. But now I know I was wrong. Needle-dick pulled that fucking stunt and now I know he hasn't changed at all. He's still that dictating douchebag who gave me nothing but commands and demands that I stupidly fulfilled until I couldn't anymore.

  
  


The house was warm, much warmer than the garage outside, and I couldn't help but smile at the sudden wave of the high temperature air once I stepped foot into the kitchen. I walked over to the living room to see Randy and my mother still talking to the other and I cleared my throat to get their attention. Once I got it, Randy looked over to me with a smile.

  
  


“Kyle you got them! Uh, where's Stan?” The corners of Randy's lips tugged downwards to form a small frown as his brows moved towards each other.

  
  


The sound of the back door closing and hurried footsteps coming behind me, along with the voice of an asshole, answered that question for me.

  
  


“Here! I'm here.”

  
  


Randy's small smiled returned and he motioned to the front door. “If you boys don't mind, could you put that stuff in my car's trunk? It should be unlocked.”

  
  


_I do mind actually. I mind a lot because that means I'm stuck with this pile of shit even longer._

  
  


I forced a smile and shook my head, my red curly locks bouncing around my the outlines of my face and over forehead. It was then when I realized that I wasn't wearing my hat.

  
  


Fuck-face and Randy can see my hair.

  
  


_Shit_.

  
  


I know I shouldn't care about what they think about my hair, but I can't help it. I consider my hair to be one of the many things I find unattractive about myself. Its so bouncy and messy, it's insane. I've tried so many different types of gels and hair products, that they only manage to keep it the way I want it for an hour before it poofs up and begins to get curly again. It hasn't changed since I was a kid, meaning that Randy and his son has seen it in this state before. Somehow, I found that thought very chilling.

  
  


My family, Kenny, and Cartman are the only ones who ever saw it nowadays, and I would like to keep it that way, to be honest.

  
  


“We don't mind, Mr. Marsh,” God, I hate lying to adults that I _actually_ cared about. I made my way over to the front door and waited for douchebag to open the door before heading outside and looked around. Randy's car was parked in his driveway, and in order to cut down the time I had to spend with my ex-friend, I cut through the yard fully concealed by a new, untouched sheet of white snow. The turd followed after me, stepping into the steps I had made to minimize the amount of how much snow gets on his pant legs to soak them later. I didn't care how much my legs were complain on how cold the snow was, I pushed through it while ignoring the person behind me who had begun to call out my name in an annoyed manner.

  
  


“Hey asshole, come on! You can't ignore me forever! I live right next to you for God's sake!”

  
  


I sighed deeply in annoyance after putting the tools down on the ground and opened the truck. The teen brat caught up to me and placed the cables inside while I bent over and lifted the jack and iron off the snowy ground and putting it down inside the back of the car's compartment. After doing so and closing the trunk, I turned around to face the raven with a glare.

  
  


“What the fuck do you want, Marsh?”

  
  


“Oh, we're going with last names now? I thought that was Craig and Kenny's thing.”

  
  


My green eyes rolled in their sockets.

  
  


“Okay fine,” he huffed. “Kyle, if you do this for me, you can come to the party and play a round of “Extreme Truth or Dare.”

  
  


I wasn't really sure why, but my mouth and throat went dry at the proposal and my mind went blank, therefore preventing me to speak my answer of “No.” I haven't played “Extreme Truth or Dare” in over a year, and the last time I played, it wasn't necessarily a good time. Clyde got caught lying during a round, and as punishment, we made him to something that resulted in him to end up in the town jailhouse. Of course, since I was present during the round where Clyde got busted on cheating, and was there for the choosing of his punishment, I had to help the other guys bail him out. My mother somehow found out about the bailing and prohibited me from playing the game. The last time I ever saw anyone play that game was about two months ago during lunch at school. Kenny, Cartman, Butters and Chef were playing it. Nothing too bad really happened, and I was glad for that because even though I wasn't playing, if anything did happen to go down, I was there as a witness and have to aid the guys in whatever bullshit they found themselves in.

  
  


The raven noticed Kyle's silence and newfound attention, so he continued his deal. “I'll dare you to make out with Craig.”

  
  


Heat rose to my cheeks at the words that left the prick's lips, my facial expression showing embarrassment and mocked horror.

  
  


_Did he really just say that?_

  
  


“W-Why would you suggest-”

 

“I know how you feel about him,” Stan interrupted in a deadpanned tone, and the action was followed along with a small shrug. “Tweek told me.”

  
  


_Tweek told him?!_

  
  


I can't fucking breath. I can't fucking think. Tweek told him? Told him that I had feelings for Craig? I'm not romantically attracted to Craig! If anything, maybe sexually, but not romantically! And it's Craig! Almost the whole school population would want to fuck Craig! But its not the way I feel about Craig and Stan knowing about that that's throwing me off in this situation, its the fact that Tweek has the idea that I'm after his boyfriend. Which is kind of true, but still! I knew the stares and all that other stuff I've done would somehow lead to this. I've known it for a while now, but back then I couldn't bring myself to care. As of right now, I'm panicking at the sheer thought of Tweek acting differently or hating me for liking his boyfriend. Tweek is great and all, and he and I have interests that no one else I like can relate too, so losing him would be awful.

  
  


“How does Tweek-”

  
  


“He's more observant than you think.”

 

I said nothing and simply nodded at the answer.

  
  


“So will you do it?”

  
  


Should I do it? I mean, making out with Craig is a major plus, but this could totally backfire. Nothing ever goes according to plan in South Park, and I of all people should know that.

  
  


I sighed at Marsh's poor expression of looking hopeful. “I'll think about it.”

  
  


He smiled a bit at the answer and reached into his back pocket to pull out a small piece of paper with numbers on it. After handing it to me, I looked down at it, noting that it was his phone number. It makes me question why he had his phone number ready with him on the go. Was he planning to make this deal with me and expected me to go along with it? I grew furious at the thought and when I turned my head up to glare at him, he had his head tilted to the side, his black bangs partially covering his eyes as a grin took over the small smile his lips were formed in a few seconds before.

  
  


“Text me as soon as you agree to the deal, yeah?”

  
  


I opened my mouth to give him a flat out “Fuck no,” but Randy's voice popped out of nowhere and scared me a bit.

  
  


“Thanks for the help boys.”

  
  


I regained my composure and looked over to Mr. Marsh with a forced smile. “No problem, Mr. Marsh.”

 

The older male merely nodded in response as he made his way over to the driver's side of the car, his hand reaching into his pocket to pull out the keys. “Now, if you'll excuse us, Kyle, Stan and I need to get stuff for dinner tonight and talk to my car insurance company. C'mon, Stan.” He pressed the unlock button and got into the vehicle after motioning for Stan to get in the car, to which his son did. I wandered over to the passenger side of the car when I heard Randy calling for me, and I hunched down a bit to look at him through his son's opened window. “And remember Kyle,” Randy began firmly. “You can never trust Asians behind the wheel. Or at all.”

  
  


I poked my tongue out and licked my lips as my brows stitched together. My eyes darted over to my ex-best friend, who shrugged and shook his head. He mouthed “Go with it” and I looked back to Randy before nodding my head. “Noted, Mrs. Marsh.”

  
  


Randy grinned at me, his hand going over to the control panel on his car door. Stan's window slid up until it created a fully closed barrier between the warm air inside the car and the cold one outside it. My spine straightened when I stood up correctly instead of staying bending over a bit. I watched as Randy drove the car out of the driveway and then down the street before disappearing when they turned the corner. Sighing though my nose, I looked down at my open palm and down at the paper.

  
  


That douchebag had planned to convince me to make that deal with him because he knew his parents would come to mine for help in taking car of the house while his mom and dad were away. I was the only one who could help him. He didn't _want_ my help, he _needed_ it.

  
  


The very idea pissed me off. After not speaking to each other for so long, he comes back only for a favor? A fucking favor and not for another chance to continue our friendship?

  
  


_Does he think he can just persuade me to do his bidding by bribing me with a deal like that?_

  
  


“Fuck you, Marsh.”

  
  


My palm closed, fingers folding over into a fist around the paper, resulting in to be crumpled.

  
  


As tempting as it sounds, I'm not taking it. No deal.

  
  


I threw the paper unto the ground, watching it become wet by the snow.

  
  


I don't follow his demands and make his wishes come true. Not anymore.

  
  


Back then maybe I would've done it once I saw that look he gave me. Head titled, eyes covered by his hair, smile wide and bright; but now? Hell no. That shit doesn't work on me. I don't need to comply with his wants.

  
  


I'm Kyle fucking Broflovski.

  
  


I'm my own person. Stan has nothing to do with me. He hasn't since seventh grade.

  
  


_But what about Stan and Kyle?_

  
  


Stan and Kyle? Fuck that. That died five years ago.

  
  


It's just _Kyle_ now.

  
  


For the past five years, it always has been, and always will be.

  
  


  
  


 


End file.
